


Blood and Dirt shouldn't be that hot

by fixme_in_fortyfive



Series: Tumblr Prompts & Drabbles [15]
Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Band, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 06:47:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10588626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fixme_in_fortyfive/pseuds/fixme_in_fortyfive
Summary: Based on this prompt I found: “What does your character do to pass time in waiting rooms?” and initially read as “Whodoes your character do to pass time in waiting rooms?“What can I say, I have a dirty mind. Anyway. Here you go.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This shall be my first contribution to the Wentziero-Ship.

Frank is bored out of his mind. He hates nightshifts, hates them, hates them, hates them. The hospital is practically deserted at night.

Yeah, people think it’s so great that he works in a hospital, helping the sick and the elderly. And yeah, it’s worth it at the end of the day, but at the end of the night? No, definitely not.

Nothing ever happens at night, except for a few patients paging him for water or blankets or because the remote control is once again not working – they should really just get new ones, Frank can’t remember how many faulty remote controls he threw away just last month.

And there’s no other work to do at night, besides waiting for these requests. His station isn’t exactly Disneyland; just an old ass computer and lots of paperwork. Most of the night Frank actually spends playing games on his phone, looking through patient files and trying to stay awake with the worst coffee in the history of coffee.

And all that white – white walls, white floor, white uniforms – could put him to sleep in a moment. He’d bet that a little color would be widely appreciated, not just by the staff.

It’s 3am now and he’s on his third cup, walking through the almost deserted corridors downstairs where the cafeteria is; the only moments where he’s not sitting at his station upstairs. Frank still can’t get over the fact that the coffee there is better than what they have in the staff kitchen.

On his way back to the staircase Frank spares a glance into the emergency room, where there’s always something going on; even late at night. Maybe he should invest the time and get his doctor’s degree. But then he probably wouldn’t have enough time for his music and that’s not something Frank wants to sacrifice. Besides, he was always a lazy student.

As he looks through the glass window into the emergency room, however, he doesn’t see anything, except for a hot, inked guy with blood all over his neck and back playing candy crush- what?

Frank’s gaze stops on said guy, Hot Guy.

He looks like he’s bleeding, blood on his neck and the back of his head. And there’s dirt on his shirt and arms. Yet he looks calm, playing on his phone with his legs stretched out, one hand resting behind his head.

Maybe he’s in shock.

Frank looks around, but there’s no one here except for himself and Hot Guy. Why is nobody looking at him? He walks through the sliding glass door that divides the emergency room from the hallway and up to the guy, coffee still in hand but forgotten.

“Excuse me.”

Hot Guy looks up at Frank, a wide smile on his lips when he sees him. His eyes clearly roam over Frank’s white uniform for a moment, before settling on his face. Frank ignores the hot feeling traveling up his neck.

“Are you waiting for a doctor?” Frank asks politely, concern lacing his voice.

Hot Guy looks confused for a second. “No, why?”

 _Because you’re sitting in an emergency room_ , Frank thinks, but doesn’t say so. Now that he’s closer to Hot Guy he notices that his shirt is ripped across his shoulder; there’s more ink hidden where Frank can’t see. He would ask about it, if it weren’t for Hot Guy’s condition.

“Well, you’re bleeding.” Frank points at Hot Guy’s head and his neck.

“Oh, that. Nah, that’s not mine. I’m just waiting for a friend,” Hot Guy says and waves his hand dismissively through the air. There are also scrapes with dried blood on his knuckles, but it doesn’t look too bad.

“Accident?” Frank guesses. This late at night it’s either this or-

“Bar fight.” – that. Frank is not really surprised, Hot Guy looks just like the type.

And he smirks, obviously proud of whatever fight he’s been in.

 _Blood and dirt shouldn’t look that hot_ , Frank thinks. And Hot Guy knows it.

“If you want, you can get cleaned up in the nurses’ restroom, its empty this late at night anyway.”

Frank could justify his offer with being a good guy, but to be honest, Hot Guy in the shower in the nurses’ restroom; not a bad thought.

And now Hot Guy is standing up, coming face to face with Frank.

“Really? That’s really nice, I feel like I’ve been part of a cultural sacrifice.”

He can smell liquor on Hot Guy’s breath, he’s that close, all up in Frank’s personal space. Frank is pretty sure that’s intentional, with the way he’s been checking him out just moments ago and how he’s looking at Frank.

“You look like it, too,” he says and then he takes a little step back.

Hot Guy smiles anyway, following up with his own little step, offering a blood-streaked hand to Frank.

“I’m Pete.”

Pete. Hot Guy. With his hand outstretched between them.

“I’m Frank and I’m not gonna shake that hand.”

Pete takes his hand down and chuckles quietly to himself. “Fair enough.”

“Come on,” Frank says and motions for Pete to follow him. They stop in front of the elevator just outside the emergency room. Usually Frank takes the stairs, because the elevator takes ages on a busy day, but at night- well, as empty as the whole place.

“So, bar fight.”

Frank pushes the button and waits both for Pete to tell the story and the elevator to arrive.

“Total misunderstanding. My friend nearly hit this guy with a coaster.”

“And the guy thought your friend wanted to hit him?”

“No, my friend was actually aiming for his head. He just missed.”

Pete looks at Frank, waiting obviously for his reaction. Frank can’t hide his laugh about this _total misunderstanding_ and Pete joins in. It’s loud and boisterous and echoes through the empty hallway.

He only quiets down to a chuckle when the elevator arrives and they step in. Frank pushes the button for the 5th floor as the doors close.

Taking the elevator might have been the best or worse idea Frank had all night. With the doors closed the space between them feels non-existent.

Pete is watching with a knowing smile. Frank would like to wipe it off his face, maybe with his tongue.

He can see Pete open his mouth to say something, but then the elevator stops and the doors open; ending their little private moment.

When they step off it’s just another turn to the left and Frank stops them in front of the nurses’ restroom. He opens the door wit his keycard and just as Frank thought, the place is empty.

“Shower is in here, you’ll find soap and towels on the shelves in the back.”

Pete leans into the doorway to look into the empty room.

“Thanks, really nice of you.”

“No problem.”

Without anything else to say Frank guesses he should go. Still, he is not moving and neither is Pete. They’re just looking at each other, too long to be innocent.

“And what are my chances of finding you in there?”

Frank is not sure he heard that right, but judging by the smirk on Pete’s face he actually said that. He feels like his face heating up and hopes he’s not blushing too much. Right now Frank is really glad that the hospital is not buzzing with people.

“Surprisingly, that’s not the worst come-on I’ve ever heard.”

Pete leans into to Frank, invading his space once again, so his mouth is right next to Franks ear. He’s not touching him, but Frank wishes he would. Who cares about a little blood and dirt if Frank can feel the heat of Pete’s body soaking into his skin already.

“Does it work?”

Frank must admit it does, yeah. Pete’s damp breath on his skin creates little shiver that run down his spine.

But he has to get back to his station; he’s already been gone long enough. If only he didn’t need to work, if only-

Frank clears his throat, the sound too loud between them.

“I’ve got to go back to work.” Frank begins and he can see a flicker uncertainly and disappointment in Pete’s eyes for a moment.

“It’s a shame,” he goes on, “that you’re not looking for me in there at around 5am, because that’s when I’ll get  _off_.”

It’s probably the cheesiest line he ever used, but then again, Pete started it all.

And finally it’s Frank’s turn now to smirk when he sees Pete’s smile finally drop from his face, leaving him with his mouth hanging open a little. But instead of waiting for Pete’s reply Frank turns around to get back to his station.

He wants to turn around to see Pete’s reaction so badly, but that would be kind of silly and ruining his exit.

The softly muttered ‘ _fuck_ ’ ringing in his ears has to be enough.

Frank smiles to himself as he’s stepping back into the station. Maybe nightshift isn’t the worst after all.  

**Author's Note:**

> Hot shower sex incoming? Maybe, for now it's just this.  
> Let me know what you think. I've only recently hopped onto the Wentziero-Train but I have this "new ship"-feeling. 
> 
> You can send me prompts and a ship, if you want. Either here or on [tumblr](http://fixme-in-fortyfive.tumblr.com/)


End file.
